The Elf

Barely three meters below, the Duke's army marches. I keep my eye on the gryphon himself. When he moves, I silently hop from tree to tree, keeping myself high off the ground without losing sight of him. Every so often my brother appears from nowhere to give me a break to sleep or eat or wash. Together, we leave a path of carefully-balanced twigs, oddly-placed pebbles, and every now and then a leaf sticking jauntily up, tracing a curved line from our home to the Duke, meandering to follow where he was.

Today, though, is different.

I stand as wind brushes my back, opposite the direction of breezes in the forest. I hop to the next branch, spinning around mid air and landing in a silent crouch.

Behind me stand seven armored warriors in mottled grey and green armor, blending in nearly perfectly with the sunlight but subtly wrong. After a moment, my brother drops silently beside me, grinning.

His hand flicks out in a series of gestures. I found help for us, Gold.

I grin back and reply, So I see.

The lead warrior gets my attention by tilting her sword until the sunlight catches the flat ruby in the pommel. I look at her.

We would rather avoid bloodshed, where possible, she signs.

I nod. We'll follow your lead, warrior.

She nods and starts flashing gestures to her team. They disperse quickly. She draws two short, leaf-shaped swords and leaps straight at me, one sword poised to skewer me in the throat as she slashes at my brother. I draw one axe from my belt, leap forward, and slam into her with the weight of a tiger, spinning to plant the axe in her chest before leaping off and pulling one axe into each hand. A pair of arrows fly straight at me, but I block them by holding the axes' heads in their path and letting the wood shatter on hard steel.

My brother, barely an instant slower than me, drops out of the way in time to avoid getting his ribs crushed by a powerful blow from a quarterstaff. He swings around a branch and shoots back into the air, drawing a dagger and slashing at the neck of the warrior who attacked him. The warrior dodges, leaping to another branch.

I hear the whistle of another pair of arrows and leap forward, straight at the back of the quarterstaff warrior. At the same time, my brother launches himself up into the trees. As I crash into my target, embedding an axe in his neck so deeply that his head is nearly severed by the blow. His body plummets to the ground as I land lightly on the branch, then scan the area.

With perfect timing, my brother drops the bodies of both archers to the ground. I chance a glance down to see that the gryphons have formed a wide circle around the bodies, staring in shock up into the trees.

Then my brother's body plummets past me, a gleaming sword through his chest. Blood follows in a trail of crimson droplets. As he passes me, our eyes meet. I reach out to him, but before I can catch him he plummets past. He hits the ground with a strange, muffled thump.

I stare with wide eyes, barely managing to slip out of the way when a swordsman drops down, trying to skewer me from above and behind. I swing at him, but the strike is weak and he blocks it easily. I see the blood on his armor and sword.

We exchange a few blows, each of mine faster and stronger than the one before, but he slides each aside easily. I roar in rage and, by subtly twisting my body as I strike, I force him to bring both blades up. The sheer power of the blow shatters the metal, but like any good sword he dodges back. By the time I can strike again, he has another pair of swords out and ready. My blow, however, leaves me overextended, and when he strikes, the silvery steel heads straight for my throat.

The gleam of sunlight off of steel brings back the image of my brother, falling, a sword through his chest. I pull my axes back up but I'm too slow to do more than nudge it slightly to the side.

Pity flashes across his face as he opens my throat, cutting open the vein, rather than piercing through the center.

I try to roar again, though it comes out as a hiss. I throw one axe at him. His eyes widen, but he can't dodge in time to avoid taking my axe to his chest. It knocks him off the branch, and I throw the other at him, which sends me into a wild spin. Before I can see if my second axe found its mark, I slam into the ground.

In front of me is my brother, eyes dead. I reach out weakly, ignoring the screaming pain in my shoulder and upper arm, and clutch at his shoulder.

The world goes dark.